"Good morning, Twit. I hope you rested well for another day of screaming in terror at your own shadow."
There it was; that snarky, dry wit of the computer that Courage had gotten so used to after all these years, sourced from that same blue-green monitor and sickly yellow text. The pink dog's eyes rolled in a somewhat playful manner as he made himself comfortable on his typing chair, which really was more of a regular wooden chair with an upside-down bucket just slapped on top. His paws reached for the computer keys, and he began to type away, his movements deliberate as he did so; which was a far cry from what the computer was used to. Every other time it was always some panicked keyboard smash that omitted words, a method of typing that the machine had always taken time to prod fun at with some ribbing joke about how terrible of a typist he was. But today seemed… different. It was almost unnerving, had the snide machine had nerves that was, for him to type so deliberately and purposefully.
"What causes chest pains in humans?"
It was a simple search, and yet Computer almost didn't want to give the hound any sort of response; it knew all too well that Courage was always anxious some terrible threat would befall the farmhouse, which, to his benefit, that usually ended up being the case. A simple health issue like a bit of chest pain could have been something as simple as indigestion, but Courage being, well, Courage, could just as easily take the absolute worst possible take from anything that the machine uttered.
"Chest pain? Indigestion from last night's extra-butter cookies is the most likely culprit." Computer responded nonchalantly to the query, wondering why such a common thing would seem to change Courage's typing style; the farm had faced worse and he'd still always tap on the keys in that frantic manner, butchering the English language as he did so. That's what seemed to concern the machine (at least as much as it ever showed concern). "If you're that worried about it being something serious, Twit, don't be. Indigestion is the source of most torso-related pain."
Courage sighed in response to the Computer's words, shaking his head as he began to type again, still keeping that unnervingly even pace as his paws met the chunky keys of the keyboard with that clacking sound he knew so well.
"What causes several days of chest pain in humans?"
Computer's monitor remained paused for a moment as he processed Courage's words (and especially the bolded 'several days'), starting somewhat of an internal dialog as he sifted through anything that may have panicked the dog any more and just didn't seem to make sense to the machine. Heart attacks were out of the question (and thankfully so, Computer thought; there was only so much panicked screaming he could take.) if this had been occurring for several days.
"It is entirely possible it could be angina, Twit. It's a common condition in older people, and by itself is very rarely harmful. If you're that worried, then just take her to the doctor. Not everything is doomsday."
Courage whined at that last little snarky statement, but nonetheless thanked the Computer for his help, hopping down from his little bucket-chair and trotting downstairs, his paws tippy-tapping against the wooden floor as they always did. Computer had come to enjoy the sound; it was an affirmation that his services were required, and the only thing he enjoyed almost as much as being dryly sarcastic to everyone and everything was for his nigh-infinite wellspring of knowledge to be used. He'd love to see any of these supposedly 'smart' phones try and find half the information that he could on the paranormal!
The machine was pulled out of his self-glorifying thoughts soon enough, though, as he heard the approaching taps of Courage's paws again. What could the twit want now? He'd already given his advice, and he fully expected it to be taken.
It was only when Courage hopped back up onto the seat and Computer caught a glimpse of his expression through the camera that also functioned as his metaphorical eyes that he noticed some sort of frustration on the pink canine's face, Courage's paws once again tapping away at the keyboard he used to converse with the sapient computer most of the time. He felt it was more private than speaking aloud, which considering the cantankerous old farmer was always too busy with his face in the newspaper and the woman, Muriel, was partially deaf and/or senile, Computer didn't really see the dog's point.
"The Farmer's taking Muriel to the hospital, but he wouldn't let me go with them."
Computer almost wanted to laugh at that, but instead opted to keep himself quiet and simply respond, knowing all too well the dog's protective nature, perhaps almost excessively so, when it came to Muriel's existence. He'd been thrown out the window before after overstepping his sarcasm, and he didn't fancy a trip through the glass again.
"Well, Twit, you aren't exactly a guide dog, are you? She's not blind without you to guide her around, you nitwit."
Courage had to admit Computer was right on that front, but it still felt off to him somehow. Crotchety as the Farmer was, Muriel always made sure that Courage went anywhere with the pair of them. Being home alone wasn't something that Courage was really used to.
"Well yeah but…" The thought trailed off there for a few moments, Courage's expression becoming something between the already-present frustration and… maybe sadness? Computer couldn't tell. "...Something just isn't right! Muriel takes me everywhere with her!" The pink canine finally finished his thought off, leaving the closest thing he had to a confidant to once again think, which didn't take long, of course.
"Hospitals aren't generally accepting of pets. You have to be some sort of service animal, and as much as you've dealt with those silly little shadows and things that go bump in the night, I'm fairly certain you don't qualify, Twit."
Again, Courage had to admit that Computer had a point, loathe as he was to admit such, but it didn't really do much to alleviate his worries about Muriel and being unable to be nearby her. As much as Computer was good at the actual listening part, being comforting wasn't really something he was going to win any awards for, which the pink pooch was quick to verbalise, tapping away once more at the keys.
"What if something happens to her whilst I'm stuck here? I just know something bad is gonna happen!"
"You don't know anything is going to happen, you Twit. You're not a psychic." Came the nigh-instantaneous retort from the machine, eliciting a huffy, frustrated sigh from the pink canine in response. "Do you always have to sass me like that?" Courage replied, his dark amethyst eyes half-narrowing at the monitor, though there was no real malice behind the expression; the two always had these back-and-forths and it had become all but a custom for the duo to rib each other incessantly. "Maybe I do, Twit. After all, you didn't get your sense of wit from talking with the farmer, did you?"
Despite the generally dour mood, Courage had to chuckle at that, placing a paw on his snout as he let out the small laugh. "I guess not!" was all the pink dog responded with as he giggled. Computer would have probably laughed too had he seen the humor in it, but he simply saw it as an objective truth; the Farmer was about as witty as a dead sardine and eighty times more repugnant. Had Courage been privy to Computer's thoughts in that moment he would have likely agreed too.
Computer waited for Courage's laughter to die down before he spoke again, watching the dog's giggling movements with some level of amusement playing through his own system. "If you're so worried, Twit, why not do something to take your mind off it? Your memoirs are still sitting incomplete on my hard drive, after all."
The idea seemed to resonate with Courage, who gave an affirmative "Mhm, I guess I should finish them." aloud, and a few taps and clicks later he was staring at the memoirs he had already wrote; detailing encounters with whatever weirdness Nowhere threw his way; everything from alien ducks and chickens (he wondered if either would visit again in the future), a deranged barber who also happened to be Muriel's nephew, Mummies, shadow demons… Even Computer himself had had a stint as one of Nowhere's monsters, having been overcharged by a freak lightning storm and turned into some scuttling spider-PC that at one point brainjacked both the Farmer and Muriel. Courage could only wonder if those metallic leg-tentacle-things were still tucked away under Computer's monitor, and the idea of the witty PC crawling about like an arachnid again sent a shiver down the pink pooch's spine.
He decided to simply go past that block of text and reject the idea of 'spider-Computer' still existing for the time being, finding himself a new line at the bottom of the file and beginning to type away, digits clicking away at the keyboard at a steady pace. It didn't take long for Courage to have written a few sizable paragraphs, with Computer automatically fixing any structural issues or typos the dog might have missed as Courage typed away. As much as the sapient PC liked to poking at Courage for being, as he put it, 'a terrible, lousy typist', when the pink canine wasn't in a state of panic he was a pretty competent writer.
The two worked together for a good while, Courage getting fully into the swing of it and losing track of time, the sun eventually dipping below the horizon and disappearing completely before he even realised so much time had passed. Pulling himself away from Computer and his memoirs, the pink pooch hopped back down onto the now-cold oaken floor, shuddering slightly as the icy wood made contact with his paw pads, before he had a long stretch to limber himself from sitting still so long. After that little bit of exercise, he peered out of the window at the dry earth below for any sign of their return. Seemed the Farmer still wasn't back yet…
Courage sighed, feeling that familiar feeling of worry crawling back into his chest, but chose to ignore it as best he could, turning on the spot and slowly making for the stairs. That was, at least, not before running by one more question to Computer, tapping at the keys once more for just a few seconds. The blue-green screen of the snarky computer remained inanimate for a good few moments as though processing whatever had been asked of it, before finally answering with an 'Of course, Twit. If it comes to that.'
The pink dog simply nodded before resuming his trek toward downstairs, the tippy-taps of his paws reverberating with an uncomfortable loudness in the empty farmhouse. The sound petered off slowly in the attic space as he reached the house's first floor, before going completely silent once he had trotted down onto the ground floor and leaving Computer with his thoughts. The machine chose to go over Courage's memoirs again with a fine tooth comb, letting both Courage's question and his response to stew whilst he sorted through the pretty sizable text file, adjusting any errors he had missed initially now he had the time to do some real rearrangement.
For anyone who wasn't used to Computer, the visual of his keys depressing on their own would have probably brought to mind the concept of poltergeists more than sapient hardware, the clicking of the keys of some comfort to the computer. He hated being alone; a quirk of his he didn't even know the origin of (he imagined maybe his stint as Mega Muriel and being entangled in that power plant might have had something to do with it, however. Had Courage not been there…), and much like the pink dog he found the concept of writing to be a relaxing escape from any unwanted thoughts, with the tapping of his own keys adding to the relaxing effect it had. He would never admit that he put up with his own stressors, though; it made the whole 'machine superiority' rhetoric he espoused lose its meaning, just like ever admitting that he could feel fear or panic.
Computer continued to proofread and readjust for a short while before closing down the file, noting how little time it had taken for him to adjust everything to be more legible and less… all over the place. That wasn't his main body of work however, and after a good few seconds of sneaking through his own files he found some text Courage had no clue of the existence of; a whole volume of books of Computer's own fashioning, sitting at a pretty hefty number of words at this point, and still nowhere near finished enough for the machine's liking. Being a computer, he had to use a pen name for this project of his were he to send this off for any sort of publication, and had decided to use 'Atticus' as a mononym for now, still yet to decide a surname despite sifting through so many, both plain and exotic. He wasn't really sure why 'Atticus' stuck in particular out of the many names he'd filed through, but it sounded normal enough for what he wanted, so he had stayed with it for the time being.
Scrolling to the end of the monster of a file took very little time for the computer, and he was soon working away at his masterpiece, the sound of his keys clacking echoing through the attic space as he ploughed headfirst into his work, waiting for Courage to return from whatever he was doing downstairs.
Speaking of Courage, the pink canine was currently stood on another chair in the kitchen, humming absent-mindedly as he cooked some potstickers for himself and the two Bagges (he was almost tempted to omit the farmer but he knew that would bring the crotchety old man's wrath down on his head and he didn't fancy Muriel cooking, ill as she seemed), his eyes staring down at the sizzling, steaming dumplings all the while. He'd have to introduce Computer to cooking at some point, he thought, barely even thinking about the fact Computer was, well, a computer and would likely have no interest in, nor need for, food or cooking. Regardless, the pink dog seemed transfixed on his thoughts, only really registering the world around him enough to keep the stuffed dumpling skins from burning.
The whole day had been pretty stressful in his opinion, and the Farmer seemed to be in an even-more-foul mood than usual, his temper almost hair-trigger today. Courage didn't know why, exactly, but it made the old man infinitely scarier, if the canine could even comprehend the fact of such properly with how the farmer acted on a good day. He had been half-expecting to have had a shotgun pointed at him today more than once; that's just how extra horrible the farmer's mood had been, and Muriel had been too sick for him to even properly spend any time napping in her lap like he used to. He really hoped Computer was right about it being nothing to worry about, but there was a primal terror latched on to every second that he just couldn't shake off, and it overrode every other thought that was in his head. Computer had been wrong before, after all, even if extremely rarely, but even a one-in-a-billion chance was enough to panic the pink pooch regardless; smart as Computer was, what he wasn't was a doctor.
He whined to nobody in particular as those thoughts chewed away at him, still only staying grounded enough in reality to deal with the cooking of the food in the pan and not letting them stick or burn. Everything about this recent development had been nightmarish, and above all else he was terrified of the concept of being left alone for the rest of his days with that Farmer; he'd rather have been locked in a room with Fred again, because at least Fred wouldn't take almost every waking moment of the day trying to give him heart failure (not intentionally, at least).
Those thoughts wandered and writhed in the dog's psyche for a while before a sound caught his ears and they twitched slightly, his head turning toward the window as the headlights of that familiar old pickup truck swung across the room, before dying out after a few moments, though Courage could still see its occupants by squinting slightly through the glass.
Immediately his heart dropped like a stone; Muriel wasn't with the Farmer.
A.N;
And so our story begins.
I'll be totally honest with you that I am still incredibly rusty with my writing, and as much as I'm not ultra happy with this, to start this fic in a reasonable timeframe requires me to put up with that rust; if/when I shake it off, older chapters might get a rewrite.
Anyway, the name 'Atticus' being used as a pseudonym by Computer is very definitely another nod to All Things End, but ultimately it's just a nod and nothing will come of it (I already have a name in mind for my version of Computer). There's also other references to the show in there as well, see if you can spot 'em all :)